Sugar
by Kate E. Hilliard
Summary: Tara Alyss had died a little, after what happened in Gotham. She just couldn't stay there, she couldn't finish her medical degree, she couldn't be a coroner, She couldn't even think. And so she ran...all the way to Mexico.
1. DO YOU BELIEVE IN THE POWER OF JESUS?

Harvey, Harvey, Harvey Dent

_Harvey, Harvey, Harvey Dent._

His name rang in her mind as she sped along the highway.

_Who needs him, you know? Stupid law student wanting to save the world- I hope he dies._

Tara Alyss glared down at her radio and turned it on, so quickly that it almost broke the knob.

_Love hurts…love scars_

She yanked her thoughts from the road…this was Harvey's favorite song….

_NO! _She recoiled at the thought and switched it to the next station.

_I love how you kiss, I love how you sound-_ Tara snarled at the machine, picked up the small hand gun she kept in the glovebox, and shot her radio.

She sighed sadly.

"What the hell am I gonna do now?"

_Don't bite off more than you can chew  
There's things down here the devil himself wouldn't do  
Just remember when you let it all go  
What happens down in Mexico  
Stays in Mexico._

The Transam she was driving did an involuntary power slide, and spun out leaving the front end of the car on the shoulder of the road, and the back end in grass that bordered the Gotham City Limits.

She switched off the engine and started to yell at the wounded technology.

"Speak to me, SPEAK TO ME MIRACLE RADIO!" She heard herself and thought for a second she'd gone mad.

The radio let out a garbled message that was a cross between a televangelist saying that it was gods will, and then promptly cut to Toby Keith proclaiming that it stays in Mexico.

Tara let a confused look cross her face.

"Mexico?"

The Radio let out a dying sigh before screeching.

_DO YOU BELIEVE IN THE POWER OF JESUS, CAN I GET AN AMEN?_

Tara recoiled and shouted:

"AMEN!"

The radio finally died, and Tara started the engine.

"Okay…Mexico, just a few weeks, I mean really, what could happen?...Well Tara for one you could start talking to yourself and go psychotic and kill thirteen people." She laughed at her own bad joke and pulled the car back on the road.

Tara was a little Crazy, he mother was crazy, he father wanted to be a superhero, the only sane one in the family was her little sister Annie. SH eknew that Annie would be mad at her for running off like this…

_Its only a few weeks…what could possibly happen?_


	2. Abolutely Not, That's Only Happened Once

A few Weeks turned into eight years, and Tara wasn't about to accept any invitations to go home

A few Weeks turned into eight years, and Tara wasn't about to accept any invitations to go home. True, Gotham had been nice, around mid-day while you were surrounded by witnesses, in the right part of town, but _Mexico…._Mexico was heaven. She didn't have a great job, in fact she didn't even have a good job, she was a dish washer in a hole in the wall restaurant. Money was never tight, because there was no money, sometimes she did karaoke to score rent money (but that was more he roommate's thing) for a room that was three blocks away. Every now and then, you'd hear about a murder, or this new guy everyone was talking about "The Guitar Fighter", but honestly, it was any worse than the Mafia situation back home. It made her think of her sister, living there, working for the Richest Man in the city. She worried about Annie constantly, that kid had a nose for trouble…her and that god-awful novel she was always talking about. They usually sent each-other postcards, but Annie hadn't written her in about three months. Tara sighed over the sound of running water.

That kid looked so much like her mother.

"Tara, tenemos la placa dos hacia fuera ella que espera en usted." A waitress with two pigtail braids that had been maneuvered to circle back up like tear drops said, leaning in the door way.

"Si, Aida." Tara replied back. Aida was a good girl, she was Tara's roommate in the apartment that was three blocks away, and helped her get rid of a minor bug problem that it had about a month ago. The only catch was Tara had to be her Karaoke partner. In a weird way, Tara's life revolved around Aida.

Tara hurried out and started to collect plates.

"Hey, kiddo!" Tara turned around to see Belini, sitting across from a man with blue tinted sunglasses.

_Perfecto, another asshole, who thinks he's Ozzy Osbourne._

"Hey, Belini!" She said back with only a little less enthusiasm.

"What's up?" She asked him.

"Eh not much, how's your sister?"

Tara shrugged

"I haven't heard from her, she's probably up to her neck in some kind of trouble."

Belini smiled.

"She always is isn't she? What about your smoking habit? You kicked it yet?" Tara rolled her eyes, and started to take away his empty glasses.

"I've told you before, and I'll say it again, I've smoked a pack a day, since I was twelve, and I'm going to die with a cigarette in my mouth…Gentlemen." She nodded her head and started to walk back in to the kitchen.

Belini put a cigarette in his mouth and said.

"Those things will kill you."

Tara stopped turned around and looked at him. She eyed him for a minutes, before shaking her head slightly and saying:

"…Nah, too easy."

She rushed to the sink and started to wash dishes again. Aida walked in and started to talk to her.

"Do you know who that man was?" She said with the voice of a school girl, to Tara who looked over at her with a pair of serious eyes.

"Aida, that was Belini, you know he comes in every Tuesday for the fried pepper…"

Aida laughed a little.

"No Tara, not him, the other man, the one with the blue glasses."

"Oh my, Oh my, Am I seeing another one of Aida's mystery crushes?" Tara asked her, raising an eyebrow.

"No, absolutely not. That's only happened once…"

Tara raised the eyebrow again.

"…okay, four times, but still, I am not going to chase this guy like the others."

Aida said frowning and wagging her finger at Tara.

Tara laughed at her.

"Aida, you're always talking about true love, this guys the one, or "No, Tara I'm sure of it this guy-he's the guy!"…" She said mocking Aida a little bit.

"…but when are you going to get serious about it. You can't really think that, that man's "The One"." She finished, going back to her plates.

"…You're right, Tara."

"You see, all it takes is a little-"

"He's perfect for you." Aida stated.

Tara's eyes popped and she choked on the air.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Oh come on girl, lighten up, I'm only joking." She said, leaning on the massive sink.

Tara just shook her head slightly, and kept scrubbing at a piece of rice that wouldn't come off.

"Soooo….What do you want to sing tonight?" Aida asked leaning over to Tara.

"Oh, I don't know, Aida, I'm kind of tired." Tara said lifting a large stack of plates she'd just cleaned onto the drying rack.

"Please, Tara, we could do a little…Rock-and-Roll…" She popped her hips with each syllable.

"…or maybe some soul, and if we're feeling really spontaneous…some country music."

Tara let out a fake dramatic gasp.

"Not Country! That's the devils music."

The two girls burst out laughing and Tara started washing plates, again.

'We need therapy." Tara assessed

"We can't afford Therapy." Aida finished for her.


	3. CULIACAN’S FOOD INDUSTY IS IN PERIL!

The next morning Tara was stacking plates up, preparing for the few people that came in for breakfast

The next morning Tara was stacking plates up, preparing for the few people that came in for breakfast.

"TARA!" She heard Aida scream running through the front of the restraint.

"What-What is it?" She asked upon seeing the out of breath younger woman.

"It isn't safe…" She replied.

"What Aida? What isn't safe?" Tara said shaking Aida's shoulders a little to try and calm her down.  
"HERE! Here isn't safe."

"Aida, I need you to tell me what you're talking about."

"CULIACAN'S FOOD INDUSTY IS IN PERIL!" She shouted grabbing onto Tara and plunging even further into hysterics.

"A cook was shot, yesterday, for no reason, by a man who ordered Puerco pibil. DO YOU KNOW WHO ELSE ORDERED THE PIBIL?!"

Tara's eyes narrowed into a glare.

"Blue specs." She said with firm realization.

Aida nodded spastically and continued.

"And he is doing business with Belini, which mean he's coming back, which means we must be prepared."

Tara still hadn't processed this in its entirety and was leaning against the sink with her arms crossed.

"It could have been someone else, just because someone likes pork, doesn't mean that they killed someone who made the dish."

Aida let out a string of Spanish, that Tara couldn't follow.

"Tara we haven't had anyone order Puerco Pibil in months!"

Tara gritted her teeth. Aida was right, the pibil took a long time to make, and it wasn't ordered often.

"Okay, so let's say that you're right…What do we do about it?"

Aida gave Tara a dark grin.

"We prepare ourselves."

Tara stifled a loud guffaw.

"Oh no, no, no, no, no, no, I am _not_ going to help you fulfill your little badass-bond-girl fantasy."

Aida stared at her with an angered blank expression.

"Fine you can get your ass killed, see what I care…" Aida turned on her heel and walked over to a coat rack and hung up her purse.

"But if he comes in here shooting it up Columbine-style, don't come running to me because I got the guns."

Tara stared after her, as she walked out the doorway.

_That kid is going to get herself killed, one day._

The rest of the day ran smoothly, and Tara was allowed off work early. It made her smile, seeing Mexico in the late afternoon. She rounded a corner and saw a man in a gray sorts jacket over an orange shirt. Today, he wasn't wearing blue sunglasses.

_Oh shit, shit, shit SHIT!_

She ducked back around the corner.

"I'm just walking my beat, friend. Mexico's my beat, I'm walking it."

He walked past her.

"I throw shapes, and they catch them. I set them up and watch them fall."

Tara made a mad dash for the other side of the road. It was a bad move on her part, because it got his attention. He was staring at her…at least she thought he was because of those sunglasses. She casually looked away, and started walking down the side walk again. Then, _he _crossed the street too. Much to Tara's relief, he was stopped in the middle of the street by a boy in a yellow T-shirt, who was selling gum. He argued with the boy for a minute, then bought it telling the boy to "Fuck off." Tara caught that, and when he was about to pass in front of her, she sped up her pace to cut him off. She felt his eyes bore into her back, but kept moving.

_There's nothing to fear but fear itself….that and all his guns._


	4. Aida, Do You Have A Plan?

The next day around noon, Aida came into the kitchen, looking for Tara

The next day around noon, Aida came into the kitchen, looking for Tara.

She found her, tearing away at the dishes, cleaning like the apocalypse was on the rise.

"He's here."

The two word pulled her away from the sink.

"I figured…" She said, taking the yellow rubber gloves off her hands.

"Are you prepared?" Aida asked her.

Tara just smiled.

"I was born in Gotham and I will die in Gotham, that's the way it should be, and that is the way it shall be." She said holding her arms out, like she'd just made a great speech.

"With a cigarette in my mouth, of course."

Aida look scandalized.

"Have you gone mad?"

"As a hatter."

Tara's statement made Aida look like she was going to throw-up.

"Aida, do you have a plan?"

"Yes, and a gun." She said.

Tara nodded.

"I like it, it's very similar to my plan."

"And what's your plan?"

Tara put her index finger to her lips.

"Shh…It's a secret."

Aida stared at her, confused by her actions, and felt slightly appalled when Tara told her to go serve him, but she grabbed the coffee pot and went back out anyway. The second she was gone, Tara rummaged around in the bottom of the sink and pulled up a zip lock bag she'd put a small revolver in earlier that morning. She heard Aida start apologizing quickly in Spanish. She started to re-assemble and load the handgun (the same she'd used to shoot her radio all those years ago), and peered out to see Aida on her knees patting at the man's arm with a napkin.

He was telling her to go away.

Tara sighed and whisper

"Aw hell."

"I am fine. Go away. Your off the hook." He told her firmly.

Aida apparently was not listening to reason.

"That spill just cost you your life." The quiet whew-whew of a bullet passing through a silencer spilled in to Tara's ears. She tore off her apron and ran into the parking lot.

"Too nice, too nice." She said to herself looking at several fairly new cars.

Then she saw a car that looked slightly like a submarine with a crappy red and black paint job.

"There we are." Tara squeezed through the small back window and hid in the leg room of the seat. She saw what she thought was a magazine under the passenger seat, and pulled it out. It was a Hustler. Tara made a slight gagging noise, realizing this man was a sick-o and placed it back under the seat.

A few screams erupted from the restraint and when Aida didn't run out, Tara knew she'd been shot.

Rage boiled up in her and she started to drum her fingers on the back seat, waiting for him to come. A few minutes passed and he came out, dragging Belini. He shoved him in the trunk roughly, and he climbed in the driver's seat. He had a hand hanging out the window, a hand on the wheel, and a hand controlling a cigarette. He'd been using a prop arm every time he'd been in the restaurant, she realized with a spark of realization.

_That _was funny.

"So are you going to spring up and surprise me, now, or later?" He asked, adjusting the mirror so he could see her.

She sat up, using her legs to propel her to the opposite side over the car.

"Now."

"Oh how very heroic." He said pretending to be surprised.

"You know, you don't sound Mexican, what's your name?" He asked her, shifting the cigarette in his mouth.

"I'm asking the questions here." She spat at him.

"Oh really, well, let's think about this, you're in _my_ car, sitting on _my_ backseat, and you have _my _gun pointed at you." He said taking hold of the wheel with his left hand, ad shoving a gun in her face with his right. He grimaced.

"All in all, it looks like _I_ have the upper hand here."

Tara glared at him, secretly knowing he was right, but kept her gun on him.

"Now, my name is…well I don't like it. So you can call me S.J, and since I raided your place of work, knowing you by the way you walk…"

She felt her stomach sink, this man was something, really something.

He put down the gun and held up a yellow piece of paper that was typed in Spanish.

"Tara Sugar Alyss, age thirty, in the country legally, and was born and raised in Gotham City…Is your middle name really Sugar?"

Tara didn't respond right away, but grudgingly bit back.

"Yes…dickhead."

He laughed at that.

"Dickhead? Really? Wow…..I haven't been called that since…9th grade, Sugar."

"Don't call me that."

"Oh but why? I think it suits your radiant personality." He said sarcastically, stubbing out his cigarette and picking up another one. She said nothing, but kept glaring at him.

"Oh I'm sorry, would you like one?" He offered her the pack. She sneered, but took one anyway. He tossed her a lighter.

"Thanks." She replied dully.

"Oh come on now, won't you smile for me? Show off those pearly whites."

She did an exaggerated grin, and went about puffing on her cigarette.

"Don't worry about your little friend the waitress…"

Tara's eyes light up at the words, and in a quick flash of movement, she was pointing the gun at him again.

"This again? Look lady, I didn't kill your friend, at worst she got a torn up ovary and a banged up spine, now are you going to be nice…" He stopped the car.

"Or am I going to have to let you out here?"

She looked out the window. Nothing but wilderness and road as far as the eye could see.

She pocketed the gun again and settled back against the car's side.

"That's what I thought."

When she fell asleep, he was still driving. When they got to where he was going, he honked the horn. Tara jumped up, and could have sworn she felt her skin come off.

"Father in heaven!" She cried out at the shock of daylight.

"Good…" He said smiling.

"Glad to see you're awake. Now get out of my car, I need you to help me lift some dead weight." He climbed out of the car and slammed his door. Tara's stomach did a flip-flop. That heathen was going to make her move Belini. When she didn't come out right away, he walked back to his door and leaned in the window.

"Now."

She reluctantly climbed over the center console and got out the passenger side door. They were at a river surrounded by trees. S.J. was leaning on the side of his car smoking.

"Alright then, let's get a move on."

Tara grabbed Belini's feet and helped S.J. haul him to the river

"Jesus H….You served him whatever the hell it was he eating?" S.J. Questioned as they carried him.

"Fried red pepper and rice, every Tuesday"

"Oh that sounds like it faired really well on his arteries." He grunted and dropped Belini at the bank of the river.

Tara lowered his ankles slowly.

S.J. saw this and got agitated.

"How much do you know about this, man, huh?" He asked her condescendingly.

"This man was a low-down, dirty, no-good, scumbag who peddled information about things he shouldn't even know about to people that were willing to pay, and yet you treat him like he's the fuckin' King of Prussia!..."

Tara didn't look at him. They all knew what Belini was doing, but strictly thought of it was a rumor. Oh Sure, Belini _says_ that's what he's doin, but I doubt it. That's what they all used to say…_ She _usedto say.

_Aida…_

"Belini, scumbag or not, was a friend and a customer… therefore we treated him with respect." Tara said to the ground.

"Hm." S.J. mumbled.

"Well then you might want to go sit in the car for this next bit, 'cause it's gonna get a little rough." He looked up at her , smiling as he said it.

She stayed, stubborn as a mule, just like her mother.

"Okay." He said going through Belini pockets.

"I know it's in here somewhere…"

"Somewhere…." He took out Belini's wallet, which was empty and threw it aside.

"Alright, Time to get messy." He pulled on a rubber glove, and Tara almost knew what he was going to do, thought she was going to throw up. Then, S.J. smiled and lifted up Belini's eye patch, there was a plastic bag, that made a sickening pop when he removed it.

"Well I suppose I should thank you for not sticking it up your ass."

"However…." He stuck his hand down the back of Belini's pants, and Tara walked over so that he stood behind S.J., as not to view the spectacle.

"You're about a quart low." HE shoved Belini in the river, and stood, throwing a rock on the body.

"Sheldon Jeffrey Sands." Tara said, leaning on the hood of the car.

He turned and looked at her.

"What did you call me?"

"C.I.A. Age ­­ - -- but I never would have known it, you don't look a day over thirty, blood type AB positive." She said smiling back at him with an Eat-Shit-and-Die grin.

She was reading the Card that was placed opposite his badge.

"How the hell did you get that?" He yelled coming at her.

"I'm a white girl from the inner city, that moved to Mexico with no money in her pockets, how do _you_ think I got it?..._Agent."_ Spat the last word at him, and dangled the wallet next to him ear.

He sneered at her, and grabbed it.

"I bet you think you're funny."

"I know I am." She replied.

"Get in the car." He told her like she was a moron that didn't know what was good for her. She walked around to the door, swaying her hips and stepping a little high, showing off that inner city flair she'd picked up. She slammed the door when she got in. He gave her a hard stare, and climbed in next to her.

The two of them were quiet, for about half the time it took to get back into Culiacan. Tara began to stare at him. He looked at her eyes, a devious dark amber.

"What are you looking at?"

She shrugged.

"A pervert, I guess."

He turned his head sharply, about three times, trying to look at her, and keep his eyes on the road.

"What makes you think I'm a pervert?"

She looked at him, those devious amber's looking at him like "oh-you-didn't-know?".

"Well, I mean, guy like you? Obviously a little sick, and you read Hustler…_Hustler_ is like the axis of perversity in pornography."

He gripped the steering-wheel tighter.

"So you're going to assume I'm a sex-fiend because I read Hustler?"

She nodded, like it was simple logic.

"Playboy people, are _much_ more …I oh don't know how to word this…_artsy_." She sais, finishing the sentence like she was tasting the words.

Sands' brows furrowed and he replied to this with a slightly distorted,

"Huh…."

"So you read Playboy?"

His words initially shocked Tara.

"No, I saw one though…once at a friends house."

"Well look who else is a pervert."

"Curiosity about what your best friend's older brother is looking for in a woman is not-"

"So you read it because you're looking for acceptance with men? You sound a little gay."

Tara's face went blank, and her entire body relaxed. She slumped back in the seat, and stared at the dashboard.

"And by that silence I'd say I was right, so tell me, who's the luck girl who get's to call you Sugar?"

The hate flowed up and through Tara's body, she'd only been this mad once, and it had nearly ruined her.

"Harvey Dent." She choked out.

"What was that?"

"_His_ name was Harvey Dent, and he would've kicked your ass right back to DC."

He stopped the car and left her on the road, twenty miles from the town. She was thirsty in the damned car, and now she'd be walking her self to death.

_Well, come on, we're not getting out of here by standing around and gawking are we?  
_Tara shuddered at her own thought.

She hated it when she sounded like her mother.


	5. How Open?

A truck full of coconuts had passed Tara and stopped for her

A truck full of coconuts had passed Tara and stopped for her. The gentlemen who drove the truck, kindly let her out at her apartment, and gave her a free Arecaceae fruit. When she got to the apartment, she found Aida wasn't home. She sighed.

…_at worst she got a torn up ovary and a banged up spine…_

Tara could hear his words ring out in her mind.

Aida had always wanted children…

Tara punched the wall and started screaming. She bloodied her knuckles on the plaster, and it felt like she broke something.

The people at the hospital told her she hadn't, just sprained a few tendons, should probably stay away from the sink awhile. After, they told her that, and basically maimed her hand trying to figure out what happened, they took her to Aida.

The Bullet had stayed imbedded in her spine, and she wasn't going to be able to walk for about a week because of the pain it caused. If they tried to take it out, she'd probably die.

Tara just kept getting more and more pissed off at him. That hate she'd felt yesterday for him came bubbling back up with a vengeance.

Now she really was going to kill him.

She went back to work, pretending nothing had ever happened. She did it because she knew that cheeky bastard would be back. And he was. A day later, humming some old tune from a western she knew her father had owned. Today he wore a bucket hat, and a _very_ fake mustache. Tara had been temporarily promoted to a waitress after what was refered to as "Aida's accident". She walked out, trying to look graceful in her low-rise jeans and cowboy boots, to take his order.

"What can I get you, stranger?" She said in a sickeningly sweet southern accent.

"I'll have the pibil." He smiled warmly and her. She read between his lines and saw that he was telling her to eat shit and die.

"Comin' right up darlin'." She strutted back behind the counter, looked the cook dead in the eye, and said:

"Escupida en ella"

The cook looked surprised at her harsh words.

¿Por qué?

She licked her bottom lip, leaned closer to him and whispered:

"Ése es el hombre que dañó Aida"

The ccoks demeanor completely changed and he gave a agreeing glare to Tara.

"Si."

Tara smiled at the cook, and turned around to look at Sands.

"It'll be ready in about four hours."

_There's that eat-shit grin again._

"It always is." He replied.

_You're a lucky son of a bitch that's not what you're in for._

"I'll be back for it." He told her, then got up and walked out of the restaurant.

Two seconds after he was out of the doorway, Tara tore off her apron and informed her boss, she was taking a break, and that she would be back in three hours.

Her boss told her she was fired.

Tara replied with "good.", and ran out after Sands.

He was leaning besides the doorway and grabbed her as she came out.

"What's the hurry, Darlin'?"

She was about to scream out, but his hand came over her mouth.

He was mocking her, the son of a bitch was mocking her, and she couldn't do anything about it.

"Now listen to me, _Tara_…" He spat out her name.

"You need to stop this. You might think you know what you're doing, but trust me, you have no fucking idea."

She began trying to bite his hand, and he smacked her hip as hard as he could to get her to stop.

She responded by stomping on his foot.

She heard him sigh and felt something cold hit the small of her back.

"You feel that Tara? That is a gun. And If you down stop this game of yours right now, then I'm going to make sure, that you and your little girlfriend share a room at the hospital."

Tara felt her eyes pop at the words and she rammed her elbow into his ribs.

Sands grunted and Tara turned and threw up the six gun she'd just removed from his holster.

"Now you listen to me, _Sheldon._ Right now you're looking up the business end of a gun being held by a pissed off Gotham Bitch, and you have two options."

He looked bored out of his skull,

"Go ahead, tell them to me."

"One, I kill you, Two, You pay her medical bills, and give us some grievance fees."

Her own words surprised her. The original mission had just been to kill, but the second half of it looked logical. God knows how much Tara loves logic.

Sands rolled his eyes and took out his wallet. He threw a one hundred dollar bill infront of her and said.

"Go on, Gotham Bitch, take it."

She glared at him.

"We need more than that to survive." She said roughly.

"Oh so it's about survival now is it?"

"Look, Just GIVE ME THE MONEY!"

"Gimme, gimme never gets." He replied in a deadpan voice.

Sands wiped his mouth, it tipped Tara off that he might be an alcoholic.

"Look, you want the money?"

Tara nodded.

"How bad?"

"Real bad." She bit the statement at him.

"Bad enough to kill?" He pressed.

"Enough with the Socoratic method, holms, you gotta gun to your head."

"It isn't the first time." He told her, smiling.

She locked one of her legs like she was going to tell him off.

"Okay, alright, enough, you want the money? I can get it for you." He was still smiling like a snake oil salesman.

Tara cocked one eyebrow and cracked her neck.

"What's the catch?" The way she said it made Tara jump a little, she'd never eard that tone come out of her mouth before.

"You gotta have an open mind." Sands stated.

"How open?" She shot back, at him angrily.

Sands licked his lips, and his eyes darted to the right, looking for a smart comeback.

"It might just have to fall out."


	6. Look At Yourself In The Mirror

First it was my legs,

_First it was my legs,  
Now my heart is open,  
All of it was D.I.Y.  
I still wanna play but I'm sick of the groping',  
And if were gonna meet I'll look in you in the eye  
I might of made mistakes but I call it learning',  
You can call it what you will  
If I had a candle and it was burning',  
It would be from one end that's enough of a thrill_

Tara suddenly felt a strong urge to shoot Sand's radio, like she'd done so long ago.

**So long ago, **she heard the three words echo in her mind. It hadn't been that long had it?

**About nine years,** It wasn't that long ago was it?

**Look at yourself in the mirror.** Her inner voices said to her.

Tara pulled down Sand's passenger sun visor. She was pretty, older, but still pretty. Wrinkles had popped up in sudden place she'd never seen before, and she saw chicken pox scars, and holes where piercings used to be. Tara began to wonder what happened to her, how she got in this situation, and most of all…

What ever happened to Harvey Dent? The man she'd loved, the man she still loved. In amazement, Tara saw how out of hatred, and rejection, only a stronger fondness could be born. She thought herself disgusting because of it.

"You having a good time checking yourself out?" Tara snapped back to the world at Sand's words, and quickly closed the visor back up.

"No, just-ah taking a minute to think about my entire life." She responded.

"Don't do that, thinking about what you've done makes you think about what you're going to do, makes you question everything in life, puts your beliefs to the test, everything you know can get uprooted and set on a different foundation when you do that."

She stared at his ear, unable to catch his eye.

"Then how do you deal with it all, Mr. Sheldon?" She let they words drawl out with her fake southern accent.

She could practically hear him roll his eyes.

"Well, Miss O'Hara, I don't think about it anymore…"

Sands stopped his car, and got out on the sidewalk. HE slammed the door, but leaned in the open window to finish his statement.

"I just do it. No Regrets, No fear."

"That seems a little sociopathic." She said staring at his sunglasses.

"Hakuna Matata" He spat back, walking away to patio by a bell tower.

Tara saw him pick up his phone, and begin talking like a businessman. He looked absolutely ridiculous with that floral hat, and fake mustache, he completely clashed with the environment around him. Tara remembered when she thought like him, no fear, no worries. She'd been different, but now she was better. The piercings were gone, that tattoos covered up, and the once vibrant blue hair, back to it's natural brown. Yes, Tara had been different…and soon she found that she missed being like that. She missed getting into trouble, she missed starting fights, getting suspended, drinking, smoking, Harvey had changed her for the better. He heart lurched when she thought about Harvey.

She thought about nothing but him for the next five minutes. His laugh, his smile, his hair, his personality…than Sands came back and popped her upside the head.

"Are we back to reality now?" He asked her.

She nodded, then crossed her arms and leaned back in her seat to take a nap.

She heard Sands groan, and turn the radio down.

"You didn't have to do that, most nights I can't sleep with out listening for a car alarm."

She whispered to him.

"It's a common courtesy. " He said, lighting up a cigarette and blowing smoke in her face.

"Oh and by they way, now that your involved there is no backing out." He said at normal volume.

"I know, I'm sick like that." She drawled out her fake accent again, slowly drifting off to sleep.

"Sick like what?" He asked through his cigarette holding teeth.

"Sick like I love bad thrills."

"Hm." Sands mumbled loudly.

He turned the radio up almost as loud as it could go.

_MY BODY'S 21 BUT MY MID IS AGELESS  
THEY WANNA DUMB YOU DOWN  
THEY'RE TELLING EVERYONE THAT THEY'RE GONNA SAVE US  
IF YOUR FUTURE IS NOW YOU CAN FORGET THE PAST  
MY BODY'S 21 BUT MY MIND IS AGELESS  
LIVING IN OVERDRIVE  
LIVING IN OVERDRIVE TO THE POINT OF EXCESS  
IF YOU FUTURE IS NO YOU BETTER MAKE IT LAST  
MY BODY'S 21 BUT MY MIND IS AGELESS_

Tara smiled at him, genuinely smiled at him, with a sideways glance.

She decided that maybe he wasn't all that bad.

Then fell asleep, with that smile plastered on her face.


	7. I Hate This

_I hate this, I hate this, I hate this, why am I doing this, why am I doing this, I hate myself and want to die._

Somehow or another, Sands had talked Tara into wearing one of his ridiculous disguises. She now had to speak only with her southern accent, and wear a blonde beehive wig. The Culiacan heat made the synthetic hair itch on her scalp. Sands had her by the arm, parading her down a produce ally. The whole ordeal was about to make her sick, she'd already taken everything she'd ever thought about him being "not so bad" back, and right now, she as about to take him down. His phone rang.

"Yeah Hello…OH, agent Ramirez, no longer retired, Good man welcome to the fold"

Tara keyed in to the conversation upon hearing the word agent, she would've killed for some blackmail against Sands right about now.

"…Day of the dead, that's tomorrow…" Sands had dropped his tone, to try and keep a low profile.

"Billy chambers, Yeah, you sure?"

"Well, whatever they're up to, I can guarantee you that it's going to happen tomorrow, so, my suggestion to you is… if you see an opening take it."

"Not enough get inside." Sands closed his phone, and started to drag Tara in the opposite direction.

"What the hell is going on?" She said trying to pull out of his grasp.

"I'll tell you in the car."

She yanked her arm out of his hand.

"Sands tell me now." She growled firmly.

"Get in the car…and I'll tell you" He grabbed her arm roughly, and lead her back to the ar.

"I swear to god, woman, you are the most difficult human being I know!" He yelled at her.

"Oh believe me, the feeling is mutual!" She shrieked back.

He hit her, hard across the face. The fore of it made her turn her head to face the window, and crack her neck. He heard her snap her jaw, then turn to look at him. She sneered at him, and he saw blood ooze from the inside of her mouth out through her teeth.

Then she started to giggle, and then she began to laugh.

"Ha..ha, HA! Dude, you should have seen the look on your face!"

"Oh god, I can't believe this." Sand mumbled to himself as he started the car, and shifted gears.

"You need to lighten up, get a little loose once in a while."

Sands gave her a hard glare.

She stuck her tongue out at him.

"Are you high?" He asked her in all seriousness.

She giggled a little again.

"Tara, I'm not kidding, are you high"

She shrugged.

"I don't know."

He sighed, and began to pull out onto the street.

"So, where are we going?" She asked, trying to be as polite as possible.

"I'm taking you back to your restaurant." He told her frankly.

Tara's eyes popped.

"What? Why?"

"Well, because, you're crazy, you're bi-polar, you have no sense of timing, because if you did, you would've killed me when you had the chance- oh and you're too nosey for your own good." He smiled at her when he was done.

Tara thought about it for a second.

"Okay then." She said, sounding disappointed.

Waves of Harvey Dent-themed memories crashed around in her head.

"I don't think I like you that much either." She told him.

They drove in silence until Sands pulled up to the doors of the restaurant.

"Good-bye Tara." He told her

"Good-bye, douche bag." Tara told him, getting out of the car. She walked back into the building and was greeted by the manager, who told her she was late, and had no right to just walk out like that. She agreed with him.

She didn't even fight with him, when he gave her back dishes she'd already cleaned.

Tara was a little destroyed.

She turned on her radio near the sink, and set back to scrubbing away.

_She sings from somewhere you cant see  
She sits in the top of the greenest tree  
She sends out an aroma of undefined love  
It drips on down in a mist from above_

_She's just the girl, just the girl  
That u want  
She's just the girl, just the girl  
That u want_

_/\/\/\/\/\/\\\\\\//\/\/\/\/\/\//\/\\//\/\/_

AN:

I am becoming increasingly disgusted with this story, I really, really want it to be over ASAP, but if you like it, and hopefully you do, please review it, even if it sucks just tell me how to make it better. I can't think like Sands, and he isn't in a lot of the movie, which is why the story is getting so spastic, but trust me things should hopefully start to get good by next chapter.

-Kate

-PS.

Why oh why, can me only write gore and crazy people.


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